Dragonblood
by starlotte
Summary: Not sure yet


Dirty cream pillars towered over the ruins of once magnificent halls. Grass, that more resembled seaweed; curled at the tip like a sharp hook, grew through the cracks of cracked stone tiles. Dull clouds gathered in the daybreak sky, trying to mask the golden yellows of the faraway sun. This made it especially hard to seek out any shadows that may be hiding within the ruins.

I turned to glance over the edge of the hill, expecting them to come into vision soon. My eyes blurred as I kept my gaze towards the distant hilltop, when I blinked with preparation for what was about to unfold.

With bodies coated in dense selenite armour, knights marched forwards without breaking stride. I of course, was not noticed, as they strode past me. I knew what they wanted. I knew what they came for.

The knight at the front of the cluster stepped forward, closed his eyes and sniffed the air. An ebony and gold-embroided cape dangled down his back, none of which the other knights seemed to have. The air was clean to oblivious people, but those who have met it before, have the smell suffocating their memory. Today I will watch more die.

Gritting his teeth, I watched the obvious captain of the squad draw in his breath.

"I know you're here, beast! Step out into the light you coward so we can kill you already!" His deep voice nearly convinced me they would prevail, aswell as the grins and cheers of the knights behind him. But I know more than anyone, if you can smile whilst approaching it, you have no chance.

The knights' eyes alerted to a scuttle in the tall grass. A small, filthy rat darted around aimlessly as if hoping to be noticed. The captain drew his marvelous sword forged out of Howlite, as did his fellow soldiers. He slowly raised it above his head, then down towards the rat. "Today, you die!"

In this world, gemstones contain powers, auras and potential. You are ranked by which gemstones you are able to use. You may slaunt around bragging about your Emerald mace, but if you don't know how to use it properly, it will shatter like the fragile stone it is. Those who can use gemstones as armour and weapons, can unlock the magic potential they hide, can perform spells, curses and attacks beyond the average swordsman's strength.

The captain made no hesitation in stomping up to the frantic rat and slicing the Howlite sword through it's spine. Even with the slaughter, the blood only oozed out of it's wound. No knights cheered, they only readied themselves.

The rat's body pathetically flopped over in defeat, with its blood still spilling over the sword. As soon as it became lifeless, the blood on the sword started to boil.

The rat's eyes shot open, the captain quickly yanked out his sword from the dead body, shaking the fizzing goo off of the tip. The rat jolted and cracked many of it's bones, a disturbing site, as it ripped it's body apart and grew. It grew massively, to the height of two shrines. It's wounds, scars, broken bones were all replaced as if the small rat having a seizure a moment ago never happened.

It opened its mouth and shrieked as large sharp fangs penetrated his gums, blood erupting out of it's mouth. It's eyes were pale blue with no pupil, fur messy and scruffy, claws pointed and vengeful.

The knights simultaneously drew their swords and charged at the beast. The captain was the first to strike, slicing through its shin. Two identical beasts now stood before them. Of course the knights were dumbfounded, who knew the beast could multiply? I did, but it's too late for them now.

The knights tried many different strategies, but with every 'triumphant' blow to a beast, it only multiplied again. I was waiting for the realisation that every time those Howlite swords came into contact with blood still linked to the flowing blood of the beast's body, it grew stronger until it couldn't no more, and multiplied.

Beasts ripped and shredded through the group, knights that tried to flee were playful prey and quickly killed, those who were braver resorted to plain combat. I watched in silence as knights dropped to the ground, still as they ever will be. Until only one was left; the captain.

There were now 8 beasts. Luckily they figured out the beasts traits quickly, I say luckily not for their sake but for mine. I once had to escape a rampage of over 30 beasts, a very stupid attempt from a group of proud bandits. Although they didn't set out to kill a beast. They just stabbed a rat for fun. 8 beasts would not be as hard a task.

There was something intriguing about how the captain was fighting though. He still gripped his sword as if preparing to attack. I wondered if he knew. My mouth dropped as he charged towards one of the beasts. He slashed it, it multiplied, he dodged many swipes from the other beasts whilst doing so. But that beast had one more scar than the other beasts, apart from the beast it just divided into. The captain attacked again, the same beast. It multiplied, both having 2 new scars the others did not have.

I was amazed. He had figured it out. For once, I thought I believed someone could do it, but it was too late; the original beast was not wounded enough to die soon, and its clones were growing in numbers with each swipe.

Yet this crazy maniac was locked on to the original beast like a starved hawk hunting down a field mouse. He darted and pivoted through claws, tails and fangs to smite his opponent. I watched in awe as the beast grew weaker and weaker, beginning its perilous journey of limps and trips; perfectly vulnerable to a determined bloodthirsty knights venheful blade.

The beast pathetically flopped to the ground as the knight fell to his knees. He knelt with little balance in both victory and defeat as he drew his last breath like he would a sword, and collapsed onto the blood-engulfed earth.


End file.
